


no emotion that's worth having would make my heart its home

by aesphantasmal



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Dysphoria, M/M, Other, fears about aging, hurt w a little comfort at the end, peter nureyev will keep all his emotions here and one day he'll die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesphantasmal/pseuds/aesphantasmal
Summary: Connections, emotions, anything that ties one together from job to job, are a dangerous thing for a thief to have.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 18
Kudos: 35





	no emotion that's worth having would make my heart its home

**Author's Note:**

> imma be honest! I don't really like this one but my output has been kinda pitiful anyway and this isn't good but it's finished and I don't wanna look at it anymore

In my life, I have met a great number of people.

It's an objectively true statement, even if it doesn't feel like it. For all the people I have encountered, Nureyev has met laughably few people since I was sixteen. I meet people as Rex Glass and Duke Rose and Perseus Shah and then I shed the acquaintance along with the alias. There's a freedom to it; it is rare I let an emotion be genuine, to tether the core of myself to something I cannot easily lose should it become a burden. I do not intend to make the job of anyone who would seek to arrest me easy by tying myself to something I cannot move. So I let people pass me by as I have for decades now, unbothered by my lack of connections to others for the most part.

Of course, there are always some connections that may be worth the risk. I knew I may need more contacts on Mars if I were to stay there for as long as I may end up doing while finishing this job, but I didn't — couldn't have planned for Juno. Throughout our time in the Kanagawa mansion, I could feel something about the detective pulling me towards him, burrowing beneath the skin-deep alias. I suppose I didn't truly grasp how deep he had managed to see, to slip in through the cracks I hadn't noticed, up until he handcuffed me and declared that I was under arrest. (It is  _ remarkably _ difficult to write behind one's back while handcuffed, but I've found that many things are possible when I'm sufficiently motivated.)

That, I suppose, may have been the point where things went wrong. When someone occupies a lot of your thoughts after a short time spent with them, it is easy to miss details that may seem obvious to those who are more closely acquainted with the person. But then, maybe I should have noticed after we met again. With the benefit of hindsight, it is blindingly obvious what actions Juno would have taken, what choice he would have made.

But then, in my line of work, I rarely find myself concerned with people's long-term emotional state. What matters is their behaviours moment to moment, and those can be easily manipulated with the right words and actions, without them getting a moment to think, reconsider. It was not my intention to manipulate Juno, but after he left, in the few moments I allowed myself to feel the loss on the flight off of Mars, I feared that I might have. That would explain the lack of communication, I felt. 

I could have, if I had allowed myself, come up with a hundred reasons why Juno left. But I don't have time to wallow, cannot allow myself the time to be self-pitying. I have jobs to do, debts to pay, and I cannot afford to stay still to work out how I feel, nor be distracted by such matters in the middle of more important tasks. Time is money, and the time I would spend feeling sorry for myself or thinking over what I may have done wrong is worth far, far more than what little catharsis I may find in examining those wounds, provided I don't simply make them worse. 

Of course, I cannot keep my mind away from such topics at all times. It's usually in the late hours of night or early hours of the morning or in between heists, when my brain is too tired to fight them off or there are no distractions present. It takes different forms on different days. Sometimes it's the old worries, worries about my frame or my facial structure and echoes of decades-old dysphoria. In a way, it's the easiest to shake off through logic. On the other hand… well, its persistence speaks for itself, I think. At other times, it's the more recent worries as I feel creases in my skin and dye over my rapidly multiplying grey hairs. These are less easily overlooked. I ignore them as much as I can, conceal to the best of my ability.

After the whole affair with Juno, I did not intend to tie myself to anyone or anything else again for a long time. But I was significantly behind on my debt payments due to the termination of my former employer before I had been paid, and I was forced to take rather drastic measures. Which is how I found myself sending a resume to Buddy Aurinko with Juno as a character reference. I tried to find alternatives — Juno was not a risk I could take lightly — but deep down, I knew he was the only choice. It certainly didn't lessen my apprehension about becoming tied to others again. So I create my new layer, to shield myself from the close knit nature of this group of people that I do not know yet if I can trust. Buddy's reference to her "family" reminds me of things I'd rather forget, though the sudden welling of an emotion I do not think it wise to examine is a reminder of why I am not suited to such close groups. So I take a token I have left from that day, one I couldn't burn or cut off or wash away, and I write my new name on my resume.

Seeing Juno Steel again sets off a million different feelings in my heart, my head, my lungs. By far the easiest to feel and grasp onto is the anger, pointed and sharp like a weapon I intend to use to keep Juno from getting close. I know that if forced to choose between him and myself, the "family" would pick Juno every time. I do not really understand why. Regardless of my own feelings towards the lady, it is not hard to see Juno does not know how to be a thief.

Though, I realise with something that could be fear or horror or any number of other emotions I can't put a name to as I stare at the camera that almost caught me stealing the Gilded Globe, maybe I am the one who doesn't know how to be a thief.

The gnawing feeling abates somewhat as we escape from Zolotovna's ball with the Gilded Globe and millions of creds worth of jewellery. It returns with a vengeance as we try and explain what happened to Buddy.

A few highly emotional conversations later, I find myself lying next to Juno Steel again. And again, I push down the first emotions that bubble to the surface, the fears and worries and anger of unpleasant memories, but this time, it is not with the aim of feeling nothing at all. Juno's hand slots into mine and I look at him and I dare to allow myself to hope again, to love him again, and realise I never stopped loving him.

**Author's Note:**

> comment or whatever


End file.
